


Pickled

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Series: DELETE THIS [6]
Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), BDSM, BDSM Scene, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, Food Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Humiliation, M/M, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: Spidey sends his sweet little sub, Nova, off to space with a bang.
Relationships: Sam Alexander/Peter Parker
Series: DELETE THIS [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/498172
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Pickled

Sam shivered as Peter leaned in close. His Sir was so **cruel** , teasing him all day in public when he couldn’t get off until Sir said. The worst-best part of it was how Sir slipped the teasing into perfectly normal conversations. Peter could be about to say something about how a fight as Spider-Man went, or what movie they should pick out for movie night with the team. Or...

“Honey-mine you are such a food fucking little cum slut, aren’t you?” or Peter could say **that** as they walked across campus to their shared advanced calculus course. Fuck. Sam knew he was blushing so bright he could probably be seen from orbit.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam managed to get out. For all that Sam didn’t have the food kink, Peter did, Sam just couldn’t help getting off on Peter rubbing it in his face that he did seriously kinky shit just to please him. And Peter knew it. He knew it and wielded it against Sam whenever he least expected it. It was part of what made being his sub so damn **fun**. How Peter always seemed to know exactly what to say to get Sam all worked up. Which was actually pretty funny, because normally he had a pretty bad case of foot in mouth.

“Good Slut,” Peter said, breath ghosting over his ear. Sam tried to fight his cock, awkward boners walking across campus were embarrassing. Which was hot, which… meant Sam was thoroughly boned, really. It also didn’t help that Peter’s praise made him feel like he was flying when his feet were still firmly on good ol’ Earth. The rest of the walk was torture. Peter said nothing else sexy. He kept the conversation about their plans, their homework, their superheroing. But he looped his arm around Sam's shoulders as they walked and ran his fingers over the hidden bite marks on Sam’s upper arm. Sam knew **just** what Peter was saying with that touch, _‘I did this, you’re mine, remember it.’_

***

That was their only shared class today, and tomorrow Sam was heading out to fulfill his duties as Nova. It was tricky when he’d be back. But he did his best to never miss the classes he taught at SHIELD Academy. That wasn’t their only **conversation** though. Peter kept sending him what in any other relationship would be completely innocent, even adorable texts. On his way to his upper level astronomy course he got: _you cook the best food honey <3_

Which only reminded him of the last time he’d cooked for Peter. The food had, eventually, been eaten. But it definitely wasn’t as innocent as the text implied. And after **that** class was out: _it’s so hottt, i think i want something cold for dinner_

_buuuut_

_i don’t have any ingredients ):_

Oh no. Fuck. This was going to get embarrassing. How. **How** was his Sir going to humiliate him now? Sam bit the inside of his cheek, dropping his hand with his phone and staring at the sidewalk as he fought down the anticipation of the eventual order. His feet were taking him to the Astronomy Lab, not a class but where upper level students could tutor others. There were a lot of people that seemed to think Astronomy was the easy science credit, and didn’t realize they should have dropped it for Geology until it was too late. His phone vibrated again. More texts. Sam contemplated ignoring them until after his tutoring time was up. But he’d **never** had good impulse control.

_mmmm i found this delicious recipe for quick pickles ANd it looks like i’ve got almost everything I need here_

_ <3 _

Almost everything? Peter was definitely going to get him to pick up what he didn’t have. But what was it, something innocuous only **he’d** know was for a less than wholesome meal? Or something completely, embarrassingly sex related. Sam was looking at the screen and wondering as the next text came in: _we’re out of lube, i can’t find the condoms_

That was a lie, and they didn’t use condoms. Not with each other,this was going to be something...

_pick us up that and the biggest cucumber you can find food fucker_

**Oh**. Oh, okay _flark_. Sam had to take a moment to settle down before sending back:

_anal lube, condoms, biggest cucumber they got, yes sir_

Peter’s reply was immediate: _good slut (;_

Fuck. Why did this stupid shit get him so hard? Sam put his phone back in his pocket and tried to focus on calming down before he got to the Astronomy Lab. It wasn’t **that** far away from the lecture halls and he didn’t need to be known as that one creepy tutor with the boners, thanks.

***

Sam had his last patrol before he left for space tonight. He ended it in an alley near a bodega he knew would have what Peter wanted him to get. It was close to Peter’s apartment, so the walk back would be short. But Peter wouldn’t let Sam get away with buying and fucking this stupid cucumber as his **only** humiliation tonight. Sam tried to put the anticipation for what was to come out of his mind. He needed to focus and remember who saw him, what their expressions were, what they were probably thinking. Peter was going to ask him, he knew from experience. The task also made it surprisingly easier to do something so damn embarrassing. Sam took a breath and walked out the alley, just another latino guy in New York. Very mundane. Nothing weird here. He entered the bodega, little bell jangling as the door opened. Still normal, still cool, he nodded politely to the bodega attendant. They were engrossed in their cell phone, didn’t even look up.

The condoms **and** the lubes were locked behind them, with the tobacco junk. He swallowed and picked up a basket. He walked to the produce, dread and anticipation and humiliation and excitement coiling inside him. He stared at the fresh fruits and veg blankly, wrestling his emotions down. Sam was going to have to fucking say, **out loud** , ‘excuse me, ma’am, a bottle of Slick and package of condoms’ oh Goddess. And the only other thing he’d be setting down was going to be a cucumber. The biggest cucumber they had. He might as well be wearing a giant, flashing neon sign that said ‘cucumber fucker’. Sam closed his eyes and took a breath. Realistically, he didn’t **have** to do this. He could call it off with just a single word. _Red_ , he reminded himself. But it would be a lie. This wasn’t even yellow. This was so, so green.

He was so looking forward to Peter’s knowing look, his kind-cruel words. The delicious way he’d call him his food fucking slut, taunting him as he had him prepare the cucumber for fucking. His ass clenched at the thought, cock twitching. If he didn’t watch it he’d get full on erection, he better stop those thoughts now. He opened his eyes. Focus, remember. Peter is going to want to know **everything;** no one else was here, just him and the attendant/cashier/maybe-owner-likely-relative-at-least. Oh, and a cat, sitting on the top of produce cooler and licking it’s paw. 

Sam looked over the cucumbers. There were long skinny cucumbers, short fat cucumbers. But biggest was a relative term, his Sir’s way of giving him a choice. Food fucking was going to happen, which was admittedly still weird. But Sam could at least pick out what exactly as going in his ass. Mind made up, Sam grabbed his chosen cucumber and made his way back to the register. The attendant barely glanced at him as he sat the hand basket down in front of them. He swallowed to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

Sam plastered on an easy grin and said, “Excuse me, pack of extra large condoms and some of the Slick brand lube.” 

The attendant did look up at that. They sounded bored, “Extra Large, uh huh.”

Sam's grin got just a bit sharper. Fucking rude, just because he was short didn’t mean he didn’t need extra larges. Even though they weren’t technically for **him**. A thrill at the thought went through him and before he lost his nerve he nodded and added, “Yeah, not for **me** you know.”

They grunted as she opened the glass and pulled out the supplies. He hadn’t specified a brand of condoms so she picked out the most expensive ones. Of course. He bit his tongue at that. It was fair. She sat them on the counter and then did a double take at his hand basket. And yes, okay, that was her realizing what **exactly** he was buying. He felt his face heating up. She pulled out the cucumber and raised an eyebrow.

“Not for you, huh,” she said. His usual charisma and penchant for words fled him at that. He felt his blush going down his neck and mumbled an ‘uh-huh’ as he nodded. He pulled out his wallet and dropped the cash on the counter. She counted it out, what felt like way too slowly, before handing him the paper bag with his lost dignity in it.

“Thanks,” he managed. 

“No man, thank **you** ,” they said, not even looking at him as they swiped furiously on her phone. Fuck. She was telling everyone she knew, wasn’t she? Sam left, little bell jingling merrily again. Peter was definitely going to want to know about her texting, or… maybe she’d even been posting on social media?

***

“Hey, Sparkplug! How was tutoring?” Peter said from the futon, where he was lounging quite comfortably with a textbook in his hand. 

“Hey Webs. You know how it is,” Sam said, blush returning as he took their ‘supplies’ to the counter. Peter already had the recipes for dinner tonight sitting out. Sam obediently began preparations.

“Tortuous? Frustrating? Enough to make you guiltily wish for a minor crime spree? Like y’know, nothing **terrible**! Just Stilt Man going for a stroll or Batroc stealing a baguette or something. And then you spend the rest of the time thinking more about how you'd stop them from hurting people than about advanced physics because you feel super guilty?” Peter said. Peter had migrated over during his babbling, and now had his arms around Sam’s waist and head resting on his shoulder. Sam blew out a breath as Peter’s familiar rambling washed over him. The tension uncoiling as his arms wrapped around his waist and he nuzzled into his neck. 

“You’re such a dork, Webs,” Sam said fondly.

“You’re a dork,” Peter said, now nuzzling into his hair. Sam snorted at that and went about the now familiar routines cooking for his Sir. Even Peter’s spidery clinging to him was no longer all that difficult to work around. Peter kept the conversation on things like that. How his day had gone, how his students were doing, how annoying being thrown through an office building had been. The usual. Sam relaxed into the comfort of their routine. Some days the only kinky thing about dinner was how loudly Peter enjoyed eating it. Which wasn’t really all **that** kinky. Definitely not compared to other things Peter did, or, more accurately, had **Sam** do with his meals. It was so depraved, so shameful. Peter ordering him to get off for him while fucking whatever food he’d just cooked for them. The shame only got him hard though. The embarrassment and total humiliation at what he would do to please his Sir was such a rush of lust he was getting hard remembering it. Likely noticing, or maybe just done with this part of the teasing, Peter’s gentle, clingy affections turned much more… Dom.

“What a good little honey-slut you are, cooking all this lovely food for us to fuck,” Peter crooned. Sam caught a gasp of surprise at the sudden praise. His Sir’s praise felt even better than his own humiliation. Peter had called him his Honey. Time for the scene then. Sam could hardly wait for what was to come.

“Th-thank you sir,” Sam said, sounding shy. Peter’s hands moved to Sam’s fly, undoing it and pushing his pants down. Sam felt his pulse start to race. 

“I saw you brought me something tonight. Did you get the supplies, little slut?” Peter said, nuzzling gently against Sam’s ear and pushing down Sam’s boxers.

“Yeah, yes! Yes Sir, I got the supplies, Sir,” Sam said, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. He stepped out of his pants and boxers and Peter kicked them away. His half chub brushed against the fabric of his apron and he shivered with anticipation.

“All of them?” Peter asked, hands pushing up under Sam’s shirt. Sam shivered again, ass clenching at the anticipation of his Sir’s teasing.

“Yes, sir. Anal lube, condoms, the biggest cucumber they had.” Sam told him obediently.

“What a **good** food fucking slut you are. I’m so proud of you,” Peter said, stepping back and pulling Sam’s shirt over his head.

“Thank you, Sir,” Sam said, feeling himself blush. He returned his focus, as best he could, on fixing their dinner. Peter’s hands wandered along his body as he worked. Sir kept his hands under the apron, letting one hand climb up Sam's abs while the other made its way down the span of his stomach. Slowly petting at the black hair trailing there.

“Did anyone see what you were buying Honey Mine? Did they guess what you're gonna be doing for me tonight?”

“Yes sir, the attendant was the only one there tonight. I had to,” Sam shivered and bit his lip, cock slowly growing harder as his Sir continued his teasing. Sam's blush was growing, he stumbled a bit in relaying the events. Peter scratched him as punishment for the pause, and Sam apologized and continued on, “I had to ask her for the lube and condoms. And, and sir I'm such a slut I told her the XLs weren't for me ‘n I set the biggest, fattest, cuke they had on the counter!”

Peter's low chuckle sent shivers down his spine. “And how did she react to that honey? What'd she do knowing you're a dirty little slut who gets off on stuffing your ass full of the biggest cucumber you could get your hands on?” 

“She, she thanked me for makin’ her night and started swiping on her phone before I’d even picked up the bag. Probably tellin’ everyone some horny little slut was goin’ home to fuck himself on a cucumber.” Sam started rushing through the end of his retelling, growing more and more embarrassed and harder and harder as he remembered. Sam swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Sam couldn’t look at Peter. It had been so embarrassing, so humiliating, and so fucking **hot**. He knew he was blushing down his neck now. Nearly completely naked, cooking for Peter in Peter’s kitchen. Peter was going to fuck him tonight, was going to make him fuck that cucumber he’d bought. Was going to **taunt** him about it. 

And Sam **loved** it.

“And that gets you off doesn't it slut?” Peter purred, his hand closing far **far** too gently around Sam's erection. “I know you like it. Thinking about all those people knowing how much of a kinky little food fucker you are.” 

Sam shivered and whined softly at Peter’s too gentle caress. “Yes, Sir. It gets me so hard, Sir, knowing they know what a slut I am.”

Sam desperately wanted to lean into Peter’s touch, to rock his hips and get that sweet friction he needed. But playing like this, he wasn’t allowed to. So he focused back on the meal cooking before him and realized the only thing left to prepare was the salad.

“You done getting dinner ready honey?” Peter asked, peering at the food Sam had prepared faux thoughtfully. “Hmmm it looks like something is missing. Now what could it be…” 

“The, the salad, sir,” Sam said, doing his best to speak clearly even though he wanted desperately to mumble incoherently. Peter wasn’t forcing eye contact yet, but he surely wouldn’t let him keep hiding his embarrassment from him for long.

“Maybe we should eat our dinner and make the salad later,” Peter pondered, his touch getting even **more** frustratingly gentle. Sam couldn't help but whine at that. His Sir liked to draw things out like this. Liked to watch Sam squirm and **suffer** as he made him wait, building the anticipation. 

“What was that honey?” Peter said sweetly, digging his nails into Sam's chest. 

“Wh-whatever Sir wants,” Sam said, though he definitely sounded pitiful and needy. Fuck, that prickle of pain felt so nice. Peter hummed, his fist closing so tight and **good** around Sam's throbbing cock. The surprise pleasure made Sam cry out, his knees almost buckling. 

“I **am** hungry,” Peter conceded. “But there are so many people out there now who know what a dirty little slut you are. Somewhere online that attendant wrote about how badly you want to stuff your pretty ass full of that cucumber you brought home. I'd hate to disappoint them.” 

Sam mewled pathetically. He shivered at Peter’s taunting words.

“And you're such a desperate cum slut I don't think I can trust you to be good all through dinner. I think you'd be whining and trying desperately to get some friction against this hard cock the whole time,” Peter hummed, sounding faux disappointed. 

“I’ll, I’ll be good, Sir!” Sam protested. His breath hitched, whine escaping him as Peter resumed his much too gentle caressing of his dick.

“I'm sure you'll try, Honey. But you're so greedy. I don't know if you could do it,” Peter said, letting go of Sam's cock, grabbing his hips to turn him around. Sam’s blush deepened, but Peter hadn’t ordered eye contact yet. He took refuge in looking away. Peter was watching his face now. Seeing the blush that he couldn't get under control. **Enjoying** his embarrassment. “Look how pretty you are. Those cute red cheeks,” Peter drew his thumb along Sam's lower lip, tugging it down a little. “Look at me Honey Slut. No more hiding those pretty blushes from me.”

“Yes Spidey, Sir,” Sam said, a hot curl of embarrassment in his stomach as he met his Sir’s eyes. Peter smirked, running a hand through Sam's hair. **Petting** him.

“Good boy.” his Sir told him. Like he was a **pet**. Sam didn’t think his blush could get any redder, but the forced eye contact was so, **so** hot, so good.

Sam whined again, “Thank you, sir.”

Peter's hand was sliding down his back, tracing the bumps of his spine. Sam obediently kept his eyes on his Sir, blush deepening at the smirk on Peter's face and the way his fingers dipped down between his ass cheeks. He felt himself clench in anticipation when Peter's finger dragged over his hole, and that smirk got somehow a hundred times more **wicked**. Fuck he wasn’t even prepped but his body didn’t fucking care.

“Yeah? You want it that bad huh?” Peter purred as Sam fought against his urge to look away in embarrassment. Sam shivered, biting back another whine.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam whispered, unable to speak louder as Peter held his eyes with his own. His Sir’s expression was meltingly possessive.

“Your greedy hole is practically **begging** to be filled slut. I haven’t even lubed you up and you're so **desperate**. So needy for me you can't even control yourself,” Peter pressed hard against his hole, almost, but not quite entering him. He clenched again, his body trying to draw his Sir’s finger inside. 

“Yes Sir. You make me so hot Sir. You’re so good to me, I’ll be good I promise! I’ll be a good slut for you, Spidey,” Sam whined, keeping still as Peter teased him.

Peter smirked. “Mmm really, Honey?”

“Oh, yes Sir!” Sam said, nodding.

“Then get down on your knees and show me how good you can be,” Peter said, stepping back and taking his warm hands away from Sam’s wanting body.

Sam sank down immediately to undo Peter’s pants, drawing his cock out eagerly. He leaned forward to lick at the head, but Peter’s hand on his chin stopped him.

“Ah ah ah, honey slut. What did I say about eye contact?” his Sir demanded, shaking his head. Sam whined and squirmed, wanting desperately to look away while he was being chastised, or at the very least get a hand on his own achingly hard cock. But neither of those things were allowed, and he knew it.

“I’m sorry Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” Sam forced himself to lock eyes with Peter, opening his mouth for him to slide his cock inside. Watching Peter watch him. 

“Oh, fuck yeah, Honey,” Peter moaned as he slid his cock into his mouth. The sound of Peter praising him sent little thrills through Sam. “Yeah, such a gorgeous mouth on you. So hot and fucking wet. Gonna fuck this pretty mouth until I cum, Honey. And you're such a slut you'll love every second of it.” 

Sam moaned around his cock. He would most definitely enjoy this. Peter’s grip on his hair was rough, delightfully so. His thrusts into and out of his mouth tauntingly gentle. Sam ran his tongue along his Sir’s hot cock as best he could. He teased at his foreskin as he pulled out, and Peter chuckled warmly.

“Such an eager little slut. You’re just dying for a taste of me, aren’t you?”

Sam couldn’t speak, too busy pleasing his Sir. But his eyes were still trained on Peter’s face, and he could still moan. Peter smiled wickedly at his response.

“That's **good** _,_ Honey. That's right, let me hear how much you want it.”

Sam was only too happy to oblige, making needy noises around Peter’s cock.

“Okay, Honey,” Peter chuckled lowly, tugging roughly on his hair to angle his head better. He gasped softly as Sam hollowed his cheeks, breathing growing even more shallow. “Mmm, fuck yeah. Do your best now, be a good boy and make me cum. I want to watch you drink it all down like the dirty little slut you are.” 

Sam set to pleasing his Sir with enthusiasm. He couldn’t quite take him all the way yet, but he could take more of his dick than he’d been able to just last month. It made him feel ridiculously proud.

“Oh yeah, that’s it slut. You’ve been doin’ your homework, huh? Fucking your slut mouth for me, getting ready to take me all the way?” His Sir said. Pleasure, satisfaction rushed through Sam at Peter's words. Sam mewled agreement around his Sir’s cock.

“Good Honey Slut. Good boy,” Peter groaned. Petting his head absently. And still he was looking at Sam, watching him work his dick over so eagerly. Forcing him to keep eye contact through it all. When Sam started rocking his hips in time with his mouth movements Peter lost it. “Oh fuck, yeah, drink it down, Slut. Don’t spill a drop.”

Sam swallowed Peter’s cum enthusiastically. It was such a struggle to **not look away** from his Sir’s lust hazed blue eyes. Knowing he’d given his Sir that pleasure, while his own cock ached, neglected. it was torture of the best kind.

“Mmm, good Slut. Fuck that felt great,” Peter sighed happily, scritching the back of Sam's head. Sam was still, oh so gently now, licking at Peter's dick. Then Peter pulled his cock out of Sam's mouth and rubbed the overly sensitive head over Sam's lips. Sam took the humiliation sweetly, pleasure coiling through him as he kept his wet lips parted for his Sir to enjoy. “How long has it been since the last time I let **you** cum, slut? Do you remember?” 

“Yes Sir, three days Sir,” Sam responded dutifully.

“Good Slut. You keep this up and I think I'll let you cum for me tonight,” Peter told him. He slid his spit slick dick against Sam's cheek. Watching him struggle to keep eye contact, Sam clearly wanted to look anywhere else. But he was being so good, blushing and cute and obedient.

“Thank you, Spidey Sir! Thank you!” Sam told him, trembling but otherwise staying kneeling before Peter. Taking the gentle humiliation of Peter cleaning his own spit from his dick onto his face so sweetly.

“Go get that fat cuke, Slut,” Peter told him. Sam obeyed with precious eagerness. Peter laid down the futon and covered it with his spare sheets. Sam knelt next to it, cucumber held up in offering. And he was being so obedient, keeping his eyes trained on Peter even now.

“Mmm, what a pretty little food fucking slut you are,” Peter told him. He ran his fingers along Sam's head, a calculatedly absentminded caress of a pet. Even now, after they had been dating and playing for half a year Sam could surprise him in the best of ways. It still felt unreal, sometimes, how eager he was to indulge Peter's kinks. Sam wasn't trembling and whining yet, but he would. Peter would make sure of it. For now though, he teased his fingers over his adorable pleasure pet’s blushing skin. Sam, so impatient and sassy and seemingly inattentive in everything else, was the most obedient and pliant and eager sub Peter had ever had the opportunity to play with. Peter was no little bit smitten. And okay, a lot of bit in love. Sam kept his eyes on Peter's face, even as Pete looked over the new toy Sam had brought him. He'd let Sam choose the fruit, and instead of choosing something average or even a little bit big, he'd gotten a truly fat cucumber. Fuck, just knowing how much Sam loved to be stretched sent lust rushing through him. It wasn't the longest, not as long as his own dick, but it was longer than most of their dildos. 

He was going to **enjoy** giving this to his dirty little slut. 

Once he'd been good enough tonight to earn it.

“You picked a big one too, didn’t you? That’s going to stretch you so good. What a dirty fucking slut,” Peter taunted, taking the cucumber from his hands and sizing it up.

His honey thanked him sweetly, and Peter was struck with an idea.

“I know you want this in your ass, food fucker,” he said thoughtfully. “But look at you. You’re so keyed up over this cucumber, I think you’d like to play a little before we get there.”

“Yes, Sir. Anything you want, Sir,” Sam said, blush bright and pretty. 

Peter grinned predatory and smug, and nudged his Honey’s lips with the tip of the cucumber. Sam moaned in response, a shiver working through him as he realized what Peter wanted.

“Open up, Slut,” he said, pleased as Sam took it in without protest, lips stretched around the considerable girth. “So pretty. Blow it for me now Honey. Let me see how deep you can take it for me.”

Sam did his level best to deepthroat it, going so far that he nearly choked himself on it.

“Fuck. I’m going to choke you with my cock someday soon sweetheart. Gonna get my dick deep down into your throat. You’ve been practicing so well for me, I think you’ll be able to take it soon,” he purred, watching with a grin as Sam moaned around the length in his mouth. He fucked his pet's pretty mouth for a bit, then pulled out, gratified at how Sam panted and kept looking up at him reverently. He held the cucumber close to his Honey’s face. “Lick it slut. Base to tip. Show me what you wish you were doing to my cock.”

Sam set out to do just that, licking at the cucumber as he was told before pressing sucking kisses and sweet little kitten licks to it. 

“Look at you,” Peter cooed. “I hope you realize what you look like right now my little slut. On your knees for me, licking at your food all hard and naked. You’re a dirty food fucking slut. You can’t get enough.”

Sam moaned deeply, humiliated and aching and **wanting** _._

“Prep your slut hole for this cucumber,” Peter demanded, pulling the cucumber away so that he could concentrate. Sam fumbled with the lube, keeping his eyes dutifully on Peter’s face. He set to fingering himself, and Peter hummed.

“Good boy. But I want you on your stomach. Give me a show like a good pet. Show me that wet hole,” he demanded. Sam groaned and obeyed, wanting desperately to be good. He made himself a spectacle for his Sir, shameless and excited to show his asshole being fucked to his amazing Dom.

“Lovely. So pretty,” Peter said, tracing Sam’s rim with a finger before letting him continue. “Keep going sweetheart. Beg me for it. Beg me to fuck your tight little hole with this big thick cucumber.”

“Please sir! Please, please fuck me!” Sam begged, working his fingers in and out of his hole. They weren't nearly enough to satisfy him. He was too much of a slut, he needed **more** _._

“Fuck you with **what** honey?” Peter practically sang, watching him hungrily. “You're gonna have to be more specific than that.” 

Sam pushed his cheek against the futon and whined. He was so fucking **embarrassed** and so **hard** _._ And saying what Peter wanted him to felt impossible at the moment with how big the emotions in his chest were. 

“Come on Honey,” Peter crooned, his hand suddenly petting Sam's back soothingly. “You can do it. You're such a good Honey, always so good for me. Just tell me what you want and it's yours.” 

“Please, Sir! Please… please fuck me with… with the cucumber,” Sam said, body collapsing in surrender, still fucking himself with his fingers but no longer even using them in the ways he usually did. Instead mimicking his Sir’s torturous teasing thrusts when he wanted him to be good. Sam wanted his Sir’s praise desperately. He said again “Fuck me with the cuke, Sir.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck your pretty little hole with that big thick cucumber, honey?” Peter teased, still petting soothingly. Sam mewled and arched his back trying to give his Sir the best view of his own fingers fucking his ass. He hoped his Sir noticed he'd changed rhythm, just like his Sir would be doing. If Sam had been good enough to earn it, of course.

“Please,” Sam begged, his cock was throbbing at the teasing words from his Sir. “Please fuck my ass with it, Spidey. Please, please, please. I wanna take it.”

“Good boy,” Peter praised, petting him and pressing a kiss to his burning cheek. Peter most definitely noticed Sam's total surrender. His little slut changing rhythm and pace from what he needed to what he craved sent possessive lust curling through him. Peter pet Sam's back in encouragement.

“Thank you Sir.”

Peter ran his hand down the length of his back, pausing to slap his ass as reward for his good behaviour. Once Sam had thanked him he moved his attentions back to stroking his head and tangling his fingers in his hair. 

“Colour, honey-mine,” Peter demanded, his hands soft in Sam's hair. Sam took his time, but not because he wasn't certain what his colour was. His Sir liked him to think and make sure before he answered, and Sam liked to please his Sir.

“Green Sir. Your slut is very green,” Sam panted, acutely aware of his fingers still in him, not quite filling him enough. Peter hummed, pleased, and scritched his head. Like he was a pet begging for a treat.

Peter told him, “And such a good slut I have. Keep those fingers going Honey. Hit that sweet spot that makes you moan for me.” 

Sam obliged, moaning and fucking his fingers against his prostate.

“You're gonna look so gorgeous stuffed full of that cucumber honey,” Peter whispered lowly in his ear. “I think I'll get my camera.” 

Sam made an inarticulate noise of raw desire. It was hot, yes, but not what he was supposed to respond with. 

“What was that Honey-Mine?” his Sir said, making no move to get up. Right, his Sir wasn't going to tolerate that. At least his Sir was kind enough to give him a second chance.

“Green Sir! Green!” Sam said, much louder than he’d meant to. Whoops.

“Awww, you just love posing for me don't you Slut?” His Sir asked. Sam nodded his enthusiasm.

“Sir, yes sir! This slut loves showing off for his Sir!” Sam said. He absolutely loved showing off, for his Sir, for the camera, for anyone his Sir ordered him to fuck.

“What a good food fucker you are Slut,” Peter said, praising him even as he got up to get the camera. Sam whined and thanked him. He looked directly at Peter, at the camera, dutifully keeping eye contact with him as Peter took pictures of him finger fucking his own ass.

“Thank you Sir, thank you,” Sam told his Sir. He made a pretty picture of himself, giving Spidey the show he knew he wanted.

“So lovely. Look how cute and hot you are. Such a sweet stunning little pleasure pet for me. Keep this up and you just might get to cum tonight, Honey Slut,” Peter told him. Sam moaned wordless need, then thanked his Sir properly.

“Please Sir, please, I'm so empty. Need you, Sir,” Sam moaned, but he wasn't going to forget what his Sir wanted him to fuck. “Need you to fuck me with that cucumber, Sir.”

“Oh you look so good for me, Honey-Mine. So hungry and needy,” Peter said, he teased the cool vegetable against Sam's hard cock with his free hand. Still photographing while he toyed with his pet. What a good, sweet slut he had. Sam's eyes were locked dutifully on Peter's face, his expression so gorgeous as he struggled to obey.

“What do you think about this, Honey? Does it feel good, having me tease your dick with this cucumber?” Peter said, he was confident that he could read Sam and that he was indeed enjoying this. It felt oh so good to make him say it though.

“Yes Sir. It's good Sir,” Sam told him, shame writ plain on his face. 

“There's a good slut. So horny you're getting off on this pretty cuke teasing your cute little cock. And it's lovely, you're looking so sweet in these pics Honey. Maybe I’ll put one in your frame later. Would you like that little pet? Want me to put you on display, rutting against this cucumber like the needy little thing you are?”

“Yes sir, thank you Sir,” Sam dutifully gasped. Fuck, that was so embarrassing. Bad enough he was grinding his cock against a goddamn cucumber just to get some friction against his aching erection for himself. No, not just for himself. It felt good, yes, but the real reason he was doing this. **Enjoying** this, was to please his Sir. It was a level of humiliation that had him leaking precum, cock so hard it ached. Then the sweet friction was gone, and Sam whined desperately for it before he could stop himself.

Peter laughed, warm and low and pleased. “Oh. You could have gotten off like that I bet. Just from me stroking that pretty cock with a cucumber. Fuck, you’d do anything I told you to. I could make you rub off against anything I wanted and you’d do it happily. What a good, greedy little pet. You’re **mine**.”

“Yes Sir, yes, yes, this slut is yours, this cock is yours, this ass is yours,” Sam practically sobbed, hips rocking against nothing. “Anything you want. Anything for you,” he said, knowing it was true. He’d rub himself off against his own damn Nova helmet if Peter commanded it. He'd fuck it and he'd thank Peter the entire time he was debasing himself and everything he stood for.

“Spread your hole for me, slut” Peter demanded, finally, **finally** lubing up the cucumber.

Sam obeyed, spreading his ass cheeks to reveal his hole. He could feel himself twitching, his hole hungry and wet and so so empty. So ready to be filled and fucked with whatever his Sir wanted to give him. Peter ran the tip of the now slick cucumber along the overly sensitive head of Sam’s cock, making him jerk and cry out. But he kept his ass spread, determined to be good. Determined to earn his Sir's sweet praise. And his Sir never disappointed.

“Good boy. Good pet, god. Look at you. You deserve a treat sweetheart. I’m going to stuff you full with this now. And you’re going to take every inch I have to give you.” his Sir told him.

“Y’sir. Please sir. Thank you!” Sam gasped out. Eyes trained on his Sir, flushed and panting. He cried out wordlessly as Peter pushed the now slick cucumber inside of his hole. He wanted to arch his back, to move, to look away. But none of that was allowed. He shook, fighting his body to obey his Sir.

“Yeah that's it Honey. Take it. You can move now, and make all the pretty noises you want for me,” his Sir commanded. Sam groaned, finally letting himself arch into each thrust. The cucumber was harder than the toys he was used to, and definitely harder than an actual cock. It felt foreign. Which just made it even hotter.

“Ah! Sir,” Sam moaned, ducking his head down. His Sir has said he was allowed to move after all. Peter smirked, twisting the slick vegetable inside of him.

“I wonder if this is what that girl at the store imagined. My pretty little slut getting his ass pounded with this cucumber,” he mused, resuming his thrusts as he spoke. Sam whined and bucked, pressing back against it, trying to get it **deeper**. “And you’re such a shameless, kinky little food fucker, you didn’t even care what she thought. I can just imagine her laughing with her friends about the guy so horny he couldn’t even wait to get home and fuck a vegetable,” Peter’s taunting words made Sam flush hot with shame. “And such a big one too. She probably guessed how insatiable you are. How much you love getting stuffed and stretched.”

“Yes Sir! I love it, Spidey. I love it when you fuck me, with anything you want. I’ll take anything you want,” Sam moaned, arching his back as the click of the camera went on. 

“Mmm. Anything huh? I think I have a few ideas on what we can stuff this greedy hole with,” Peter said, his tone almost taunting. “Maybe we can try something even bigger next time. See how full we can get you.”

Sam wiggled and groaned. His Sir was so mean, and yet so good and wonderful to his lowly little toy. So he would be a good Honey. He’d take whatever Spidey gave him, and he’d love every second of it. “Yes Sir. I’ll take anything you want Sir.”

“Good boy. So pretty. Fuck honey, these pictures are gonna be breathtaking. You're such a dirty fucking slut.” 

Sam bit his lip at the reminder that his Sir was documenting every humiliating second of him getting fucked with a cucumber. He was going to **display** one of them in the ‘My Favorite Pet’ frame he’d bought to remind Sam what he was. A good little food fucker. Something for his Sir to toy with and enjoy. His Sir’s **favorite** pet. The happy satisfaction at the thought was honestly pretty damn embarrassing too. Here he was getting turned on by a stupid novelty frame. And a cucumber. Peter stopped fucking him with said cucumber, and Sam had to struggle to still his hips so that he didn’t rock back against it desperately. Like this he could only take what Peter gave him, and any initiative on Sam's part would be met with sweetly cruel teasing instead of the desperate fucking his filthy slut hole needed.

“Hold that cucumber inside and spread your cheeks Food Fucker,” Spidey told him. “I want a picture of it stretching that desperate hole wide for me.” 

The wave of embarrassment at the thought of such an intimate and **shameful** picture nearly made him lose it. But he was a good boy. He could hold back. His Sir gave him plenty of practice. The click of the camera was loud in his ears, even over the desperate panting breathes he was taking. Fuck, his Sir was really taking close ups of his asshole stretched around a cucumber. 

“Mmmm. Fuck that’s hot,” Peter purred. “Now sweetest, if you want to cum soon, I’ll let you.”

Sam was overjoyed. Fuck it’d been so long. He’d had to endure so much teasing. Been so horny and unable to do anything about it for three days straight.

“You just have to wait until I do one thing,” he continued, and Sam had to bite back a groan of frustration. He was **so** ready to cum! And his Sir was offering it, only to pull it just out of his grasp again.

“I’ll tap you twice when I think you deserve it. Like this,” Peter demonstrated, tapping his fingers against the side of Sam’s thighs. “Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir. I don’t cum until I deserve it. You’ll tap twice when I’ve been good,” he said, trembling with need.

“Good boy,” Peter said. Then shockwaves of surprised pleasure were jolting through him as Spidey leaned in and **licked** his rim, tracing the cucumber with his tongue.

“Oh! Spidey! Please Spidey, Sir! I can’t…”

Peter stiffened his tongue, and hummed. But he had mercy. In one swift motion Peter’s hand closed around his cock, just as his tongue pressed its way inside of him alongside the cucumber. And then he tapped him twice, and Sam was making pathetic sounds as he came all over the sheets below him.

“Mmmm what a good, sweet little Honey slut you are, Food Fucker,” Peter praised him as he leaned back. “Was that orgasm good? Did you like coming for your Sir with that cuke in your ass?”

Sam mewled an affirmative while he caught his breath. Subspace was a hazy pleasure just to the side of his awareness. His Sir rested his hand on his scalp and Sam finally managed to get a proper response out, “Yessir, felt ‘mazing Sir.” 

“Heh, what a good food fucker you are, Honey Slut,” said his Sir. Sam felt himself smiling as he thanked his Sir with feeling. He was good! Sir was pleased! Then Sir was speaking again and Sam had to mind his voice. Focus on his Sir instead of how amazing he felt.

“You know, Honey Slut, I **had** been thinking about ordering you to eat this nasty cuke. Freshly fucked and all, but,” said his Sir. He drawled out the vowel then chopped off the tee. Testing and teasing his pet. As was Sir's right, of course. Sam continued paying attention, waiting for a clear command or question.

“You're such a greedy slut you can take another fucking, can't you?” Sir said, smile wicked and sharp and **knowing**. Sam shivered with shamed lust. His Sir was right, of course. He was such a filthy little food fucker that his lube slick hole was already clenching in anticipation of another round.

“Yes sir, I can take it, Sir,” Sam said, how could he not? His Sir was offering him something sweet, he was practically honor bound to accept. He **wanted** to accept.

“Good. Good little food fucker,” Sir praised him. 

Sam's thanks was cut short. Peter didn’t give him time to adjust before plugging his ass full again. He pumped the cucumber into him at the perfect pace to have his lowly slut self screaming in pleasure. Sam shook, able only to take what his Sir gave him. His Sir was merciless, fucking him so thoroughly that Sam **knew** he would have cum again if he wasn’t still drained from his last orgasm.

“Sir! Sir, yes, please, fuck, **please** _,”_ he chanted between ragged breaths, “thank you, Sir, Spidey, please, fuck, fuck, fuck! I c'n take more! I'm yours! I’m yours, I love you, I’m yours! Just you, Spidey, ahh fuck, oh oh oh!” 

Sam was so caught up in pleasure that he almost missed the low sound Peter made. But he **definitely** felt the warm wetness as his Sir came all over his ass, jizz dripping between his cheeks and down over his stretched hole. The frantic pace of the fucking slowed, then Peter pulled the cucumber out of him. But before Sam could even whine, his Sir was rubbing the tip of it over Sam’s skin, collecting his cum. Sam made a soft, confused noise, flying so high he could barely comprehend anything beyond pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. His Sir gave him his answer. Peter slid the cum covered cucumber back inside of his pleasure pet's slick hole, fucking his cum deep into Sam’s ass.

“Thank you,” Sam said, pouring emotion into the words. He was worthy! He was worthy of his Sir’s cum. He was a good pet! Sir came on him and was so pleased he fucked his jizz into him! He was a good sub, making his Sir so very happy!

“Good boy,” Peter said, soothing him. “Such a beautiful good boy. Fuck, Honey. I need to be inside you.”

In a distant part of Sam’s brain not fuzzy with pleasure the thought ‘thank fuck for spidery endurance’ drifted lazily by. But in reality he might as well be spaced out an airlock without his helmet. Sunk in pleasure so deep that all he said was, “Please, Sir.” Peter oh so gently took the cucumber out, leaving Sam aching and empty again. It was the **worst** . He wanted. He **needed** _._ “Need you sir, please.”

“Shhh, Honey Slut. You’ll get what you need,” Peter assured him, stroking his hair softly. The attention was so good. He could almost forget how goddamn much he wanted to be fucked. As long as his Sir was petting and praising him he needed, wanted for nothing else. His Sir’s hand was on his chin then, tilting his lowly face up to look into his Sir's stunning eyes. Peter's expression was so caring it felt almost too intense. “That’s my good boy. You got so worked up baby. I need you to come back down a little and give me a colour on me fucking that gorgeous ass of yours. I’ve got you sweetheart. Take your time.”

Sam couldn't imagine anything more green than getting used by his Sir. But he had to come back, had to focus. His Sir's sweet voice and loving eyes guided him. Finally, he was present enough to obey. Think about his Sir fucking his ass, okay, he could do that. And, yeah, there could literally be nothing more green for Sam than getting to feel his Sir inside of him.

“Your Slut is green Sir,” Sam told Peter, voice rough.

Peter hummed happily, stroking his face. “Such a good boy,” he cooed, then leaned in and kissed him. It was soft, almost sweet, and Sam melted into it like ice cream on a hot day. Even his Sir biting his lip was so loving that Sam was overwhelmed with it. His Sir was happy with him! His Sir **loved** him. Sir was holding Sam still with his hand gently fisted in the back of his hair, Peter asked, “You ready, Sweetheart?”

“Yes Sir! Please, Sir. This ass is yours, this cock is yours, this slut is yours,” he said, striving to please.

“Good boy,” Peter chuckled, warm and low. Then, he booped Sam gently on the nose. “So this is mine.” 

“Yes sir, this slut is yours,” Sam agreed. His own body wasn't his. He belonged to his Sir. And Sam **loved** it; loved the surety of his Sir's want and desire of his lowly, shameless self. Loved the daily reminder of **being wanted** as he obeyed his Sir even when they weren't together.

Spidey reached down between Sam’s legs, swirling his fingers around the head of Sam’s cock. “And this is mine.”

“Yours, Sir, yessir,” Sam agreed, shivering with fervor. He was nothing but a pleasure pet, a filthy slut for his Sir to use as he saw fit. His Sir could suck and fuck his dick whenever and however he wanted, and Sam had to take it. Take it and thank his Sir for the gift. Sam lived for his Sir's praise. Better than any alcohol, stronger than any drug. He'd comply with his Sir's need to control when and if Sam could come. He'd do it and thank his Sir for the honor of being used, being his Sir's **favorite** toy. The toy his Sir liked over his dildos and fuckables, the thing his Sir used the most. How good it felt to be used by his Sir.

“Hmm but there was one more thing,” Peter faux pondered, moving back around out of Sam’s line of sight. But he could **feel** him, standing behind him. Looking him over like a prize. He felt his ass clench in anticipation, lube and cum slick inside him, and likely leaking from his hole. He must look a total mess, just like the slut he really was.

“Yes Sir,” Sam agreed, though he wasn’t sure if he was meant to tell his Sir, or if he should wait. But Sir never left him to wonder too long. 

“Come now little slut. Help remind me. What’s mine?”

“This cock is yours, this ass is yours, this slut is yours,” Sam rhymed off, wiggling his ass appealingly. He got a playful smack as a reward. He caught his breath and thanked his Sir.

“Right! How could I forget about such a sweet, tight little ass!” Peter laughed, gripping Sam’s hip with one hand, and guiding his cock home into his hole. Sam moaned, a rush of bliss that ran deeper than just the physical pulsing through him. His Sir was inside of him. Filling him up and satisfying him in a way that nothing else, no one else, ever could. Spidey fucked him just the way he knew Sam liked, only stopping when Sam got close to his peak. Each time he obediently warned his Sir he was about to cum. His Sir slowed his thrusts, and gripped the base of his cock tight to keep his orgasm at bay. Sam kicked and whined and thanked his Sir with each ruined orgasm. By the fourth time, Sam was almost sobbing as he thanked him.

“Hmm. I think two orgasms might be too much for you, little slut. Maybe I’ll keep you on the edge until I’m done using you, and then leave your cock hard and pretty for me while we have our dinner, instead.” Spidey told him, still fucking him so perfectly, just how Sam liked it best.

What else could Sam say except, “this slut is yours, this ass is yours, this cock is yours! Thank you sir, thank you!”

“Yes, Honey. Such a good good boy,” Peter sounded so pleased as he praised him. It made Sam glow. His Sir was happy with him. Fuck, he’d do anything to get such high praise again and again.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet my little pet,” Peter said, pumping Sam harder. “I just can’t help myself. I’m going to make you cum for me pumpkin.”

Sam sobbed out his thanks. He was so close again, just at the edge, and his Sir was going to let him cum. He shook, feeling his balls draw up as he got close and warned his Sir.

“My good little cum slut,” Peter cooed. “Not yet. One more ruined orgasm baby. You can take it.” He closed his hand around the base of Sam’s cock and enjoyed the way that Sam squirmed and whined and sobbed as he tried to hold his body back.

“So good. Look at that, you nearly lost it that time, didn’t you baby? You’re getting so so good at holding yourself back. Fuck, I’ve trained you so well.”

Sam was beyond words, but he did his best, slurring out his thanks and affirmation. His Sir was so good at training his pet. He had made him into the perfect toy, tailored perfectly for his use. And Sam loved it. He **needed** it. It was everything he’d ever needed, and he trusted Peter completely. He was free to be as desperate and slutty and subby as he wanted and he knew he would be safe in Peter’s capable hands.

“I’m gonna cum in this pretty, wet, tight little ass of yours again, and once you’re nice and full of my jizz, you’re going to cum for me,” his Sir said, his hips rolling, fucking his cock into his ass with steadily increasing speed.

“Thank you sir! Thank you sir!” Sam sobbed out. His Sir was so pleased with his shameless self that he was going to fuck him until he came, then honor his greedy ass with his hot load. “Yessir cum for you after you use me Sir!” 

“Good slut,” Spidey purred. Then Sam blinked as his Sir held the slick cucumber back in front of his face. “Suck on it,” he ordered, pressing the tip against Sam’s mouth. “Take it in deep, that’s a good boy,” Sir continued. He thrust it into his slut's receptive mouth. Sam groaned, blissed out and so fucking humiliated it hurt. His Sir was making him suck on the lube and cum covered cucumber that he’d just fucked his ass with. And his slut mouth was doing it without protest. Not that Sam wanted to yellow. Sam was fucking **eager** for it. Eager for the humiliation. Eager for his Sir's attentions, no matter how depraved.

“That’s it, clean it up sweetheart,” Sir commanded. “Hold onto it now, and fuck that slut mouth. Take it baby, I know you can do it. Show me how much you can fit into that eager little slut mouth.” 

Sam made choked off little sounds as he held the cucumber best he could and tried to fuck it in as deep as possible. It gave him something to focus on, other than the floaty feeling and the pure pleasure of his Sir pounding into him. He choked, then did it again when it made his Sir moan. He could please his Sir. He could take it, the humiliation and pleasure and **everything** _._ **Anything** for Spidey, his owner, his lover, his Sir.

“Gonna have you fuck so many things,” his Sir was saying, sounding lust drunk and hoarse. “Gonna make you stick this pretty cock in every fucking food I want. Gonna fuck your ass with every fucking fruit and vegetable I can get. And you’ll get off on it. Fuck, you’d get off on almost anything I wanted you to fuck, wouldn’t you Honey? You’re fucking insatiable.”

Sam moaned obedient agreement around the filthy food in his mouth. He would come whenever, and however his Sir ordered. Anything else was unthinkable.

"Fuck, yes, God. My Honey, my sweet, you’re **mine**. My slut," Peter panted, then bit off a groan as he came in Sam’s ass. “Fuck. Fuck, come for me now slut, come for your Sir.”

Sam obeyed, collapsing with a shout at the intensity. Everything was hazy and he could barely keep his eyes open, but his Sir was there giving him gentle touches and soft praise and lifting him up to settle him into a comfortable position.

“Good boy,” he crooned, and the next thing Sam knew there was a piece of chocolate being pressed against his lips. “Eat up, Honey. There’s a good boy. Then I need you to drink some of this water for me.” 

Sam obeyed. The chocolate was almost too sweet, the water cool and refreshing. When Sir was satisfied he snuggled Sam up and joy and bliss and love sang through Sam. And anxiety jangled through it all. Anxiety that he'd been bad, the wrong sort of bad nipped at him. Fear of losing his amazing, wonderful Sir over his own failure chipped away at the perfect, floating bliss of subspace.

“Wassi a g’d toy Sir?” Sam slurred, snuggling in Peter’s, his Sir's, warm arms. Peter was everything. His Sir was his Galaxy. To never be used again would be worse than any torture.

“Yes Honey. You’re so much more than just a toy."

Sam grunted weak acknowledgement. 

"You’re so wonderful. I’m so happy with you sweetheart. I’ve got you. You did such a great job.”

"Thank you sir," Sam said, soft and meek. He let himself inch his way out of the hazy world of subspace inch by inch. And all the while, Peter’s voice guided him.

“I'm so proud of you. You were such a good boy. You made me so happy tonight, Honey. I love you. You’re so dang fantastic, Sam. So amazing” Peter sounded so genuine, so loving, that Sam found it easy enough to settle back into himself. Into being **Sam** instead of Spidey’s pet. And still, that glow of being a good sub remained in his chest. Peter was such an overly sappy worrywart that Sam had even noticed that sub drop wasn’t as terrible as it used to be. The timing was still so _das't_ unpredictable for him, and it still wasn’t fun, but having Peter straight up pamper him helped take the edge off. “How are you? Still feeling all floaty?”

Sam managed a nod. “Less than before but still floaty Sir.”

Peter linked his fingers through Sam’s, kissing his hair. “That’s okay. You float as long as you need, Sam. I just need you to let me know if anything hurts. Or if you’re feeling dizzy or sick at all.”

Peter squeezed his fingers, a good physical reminder that he should ground himself. Sam could do that. And he could answer. “Not dizzy. Not sick. Prolly gonna hurt later but th’ good kind, Sir.”

“Okay. Let me know if anything changes,” Peter pressed another kiss to his head. “Thank you for that scene, Sam. I love you.”

Sam dozed a little then, and when he woke Peter was still there, still holding him. And Sam was **still** absolutely filthy from their scene. He was relieved _I'm good I'm worthy_ and annoyed _I'm gross I'm dirty._

“M’sticky,” Sam complained, nuzzling back against Peter as though he could possibly press them together any closer than they already were.

“Are you ready for me to clean you up yet?” Peter asked, sounding far too amused.

Sam gave a grumpy huff. He wasn’t. Whenever Peter cleaned him while he was still floating he got stupidly upset. “No,” he grumped. “Not yet.”

Peter’s laugh was warm and affectionate against his hair. “Okay, Honey. You tell me when you’re ready.”

Sam shifted around to face Peter, then enjoyed the float and the adrenaline high for a moment longer before he laughed through his nose. Peter squeezed him for a moment, and made an inquisitive sound.

“Christ. A fucking cucumber. Where the hell do you come up with this _schlag_?” Sam practically giggled. It was so weird and so out there. Peter had the strangest ideas.

Peter blushed adorably. How. How could he be so _flark'ng_ cute **now** when barely an hour ago he was anything but. Peter stumbled over his explanation. “Uh. I don’t, don't know? It just seemed really hot at the time?” 

“You’re a weirdo, you know that right?” the kiss to Peter’s nose softened his words a little, but it was absolutely true.

“Takes one to know one,” Peter laughed, “now rest up so I can get us clean and we can **actually** eat that dinner you made us.”

“Sir yessir,” Sam agreed, only a little bit being a shit.

“Honey,” Peter said after a short silence.

“Mhmm?” Sam answered on instinct. Almost asleep but not quite there.

“No,” Peter laughed, “I mean the food. I think that’s what you’ll fuck for me next. A jar of honey.” 

"Mmmm, yessir," Sam mumbled sleepy agreement.

He didn’t have much brain power left to think anything more than whenever they played next, it’d be horribly embarrassing. Which meant they were going to have **so** much fun. And with that thought in mind, Sam fell asleep with a smile on his face and Peter’s body warm against his back. When he woke up he wasn't all stupid with bliss and deeply, deeply annoyed at how gross his skin felt. He made a very annoyed noise and Peter pressed a little kiss to the top of his head.

"Welcome back, Sunshine. How you feel?" Peter said. His warmth and concern made way too many mushy feelings happen. Especially after such a depraved scene.

"Gross," Sam told him.

Peter laughed and gave him a only little bit awkward hug. "Ready for me to clean us up, my kinky little light bulb?"

"Yeah," Sam said in agreement. _Das't_ his stupid brain. But, Peter was so kind and caring and amazing that it felt so sweet and good being cleaned up once he'd floated back into himself. Peter picked him up like a kitten and carried him to the shower. Sam managed to tell him, "wow, that's always hot a f."

Peter rolled his eyes and laughed, "Okay, my kinky Honey."

"Love you, Pete," Sam said. Okay there, he'd done it. He named the stupidly good mushy feelings happening inside of him. Peter melted with even more sap and mush then usual. His expression downright dopey and, yeah, lovestruck.

"Love you too, Sam," Peter told him. He stepped them under the shower and set to washing him clean. For all that they had to hurry before losing the hot water, Sam felt so _das't_ treasured it was almost worship kink. But it was mostly amazing. They dried each other off and got dressed in their night clothes before finally eating dinner. Nothing else kinky happened with food. And Sam slept so good he didn't want to wake up and leave Earth for his cosmic duties. But wake up he did, and Peter woke up with him. Something he usually didn't do.

"Come back safe, Honey," Peter told him, being extra clingy. Sam resisted the urge to snark and instead nodded agreement.

"Yes Spidey, anything for my Sir," he told him, managing to get his go bag repacked around Peter's spider sticking. Peter nuzzled against his hair one last time before finally relenting and letting Sam put on his helmet. Then trying to get Peter's mind away from whatever bad dreams had set off his anxiety, "this slut lives to obey his Sir."

Peter reeled him neck in for an extra strong spider hug. "I love you too, you precious disaster."

Sam hugged him back, maybe just a bit harder than he usually did. If Peter actually knew half of the horrible people waiting to try and see if **they** could claim the Kree bounty on His head, or of the terrible things out in the cosmos beyond human comprehension and immeasurably dangerous then he'd probably never let Sam out of his sight again. And Sam was Nova basically for the reason that humans weren't ready for space and everything that came with it. So. He had to keep surviving, there just wasn't any other option. 

"Yeah, yeah, feelings, gross. Try not to terrorize anyone by fucking your lunches at work, weirdo."

Peter made those hilarious sounds of offense that Sam adored. So he left, chased by Peter's offended shout of "Rude!"

_-fin-_


End file.
